


Rum and Their Company

by LotusRox, thelonebamf



Series: Run From Their Company [2]
Category: Metal Gear
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, M/M, NSFW, RP Archive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-04
Updated: 2015-11-04
Packaged: 2018-04-30 00:20:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5143394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LotusRox/pseuds/LotusRox, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelonebamf/pseuds/thelonebamf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been a week since they took refuge in the abandoned cabin and against all odds they're still alive. That's worth celebrating, isn't it? And if Dave's already had a drink or two, well, it's not really a problem, he just has to get his partner up to speed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rum and Their Company

**Author's Note:**

> This is not a fanfiction, strictly speaking. It is an excerpt from a Metal Gear AU RP "Run From Their Company" between myself and (the totally amazing) LotusRox, but... we had a lot of fun writing it and since this is sort of a "standalone" part of the story from our AU we wanted to tidy it up and share it here. Apologies for weird stream of consciousness style writing or if anything seems redundant, that's just the nature of it being an RP. Hopefully you'll still enjoy it. ^^
> 
> "CIA agent David Sears gets sent to extract and imprison shut-in and hacker extraordinaire Hal Emmerich for the trade of sensitive USA documents to the recently founded Republic of Zanzibarland (Kashmir, Central Asia). Something about his mark doesn’t allow him to pull the trigger, and all of a sudden Canada starts looking than a better option than mindless killing for a government he doesn’t believe in."
> 
> This story started out almost as a joke, a response to a "drunk kissing" meme, but then we had to get all plotty and character-development on it. Sorry?
> 
> Find the main thread (probably will not be archived due to length, but can be read if you're in to it) here:
> 
> http://sneak-in-suit.tumblr.com/tagged/Thread%3A-Escape-from-New-York/chrono

It’s not like there’s a lot of ways to kill time, in that godforsaken cabin. With no tasks to focus on and the way David was doing his damnedest not to let Hal notice that his night terrors had returned after that first time…

 

By mid-week, he had already picked the habit to just have a little something here and there during daytime, from the bottles of whiskey he had bought. Just to keep his nerves soothed and his ability to function unaffected, and then his disposition had improved towards a positively _sunny_ one, in comparison to the beginnings of their trip. Throwing in a nightcap before going to bed as well, to better ease him into it, and their living arrangement has gone as smoothly as it could have.

 

The thing is, David is just so much more talkative when he is slightly boozed up. Convincing. Which is the reason he has managed to coax Hal into joining him instead of nagging, the one night he has slipped and gotten discovered in the middle of his sleeping aid.

 

“Come on, you’re 19. Over legal drinking age in Canada, if you’re that worried”, he teases, and less than five minutes later, he is dangling a tumbler glass in front of his _flight partner_. Dave has always drunk his Jack neat because _of course he does_ , but he mixes Hal’s with a drop of lemon juice and a teaspoon of sugar in consideration of his novice status. “Poor man’s whiskey sour, sorry about the lack of ice. A Jack-and-coke would’ve been easier for you, probably, but this isn’t a bad one to have for your first time.”

 

Hal had noticed the bottle the first time he’d peered into the grocery bag, felt the cool hardness of the glass through the brown paper, but he hadn’t thought much of it at the time. It was David’s money, his habit, and Hal doesn’t really have much of an impression of what is normal for the man, or what’s normal in general. As far as he knows, drinking is only a problem when a person is stumbling around, or yelling and throwing things, right? So he’s stayed silent.

 

Dave hands him the glass and lets himself fall on the couch, sitting by Hal's side with an amused smile. Waiting. And Hal, he still doesn't move from his spot now Dave is right next to him, his own faded blue jeans up against the frayed denim of the man’s recently acquired pair. He’d never been much for drinking. Sure, he bought a bottle of something that first week on his own because it seemed like the thing to do. They said if you drank, you forgot.

 

It hadn’t worked, so he hadn’t tried it again.

 

Sitting there, tumbler held with both hands in his lap, Hal can't help but stare down into it before looking back at Dave, whose smile hasn't waned. The only thing he can think of is how he doesn’t want Dave to go. Doesn’t want him to turn to leave, retreat into his own room, taking the bottle with him. So he agrees.

 

He takes a drink.

 

It burns, stings something awful, but Dave is still smiling, amused at the whole thing, it seems. Hal can’t keep from coughing, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, licking his lips to try and banish the roughness, and dammit, _Dave is still smiling._

 

“S…good.” Hal says, rather unconvincingly. “I’m sure I’ll get used to it.”

 

Dave snorts in response, and has half a mind to tell Hal to just leave it there - He is perfectly capable of making sure it doesn’t go to waste. But… _Hal is trying. Shouldn’t Dave let him?_ He had been going at it that day with small sips, frequently enough to have been the slightest bit tipsy before the nightcap. Which probably has a certain influence when he decides to down what little is left from his glass to demonstrate, and cheer Hal on instead of letting him off easy. “Come on, it’s only burns at the first taste. Here, I’ll go with you”.

 

He pours another glass for himself, ensuring to only fill it halfway this time so as not to scare Hal off - Which makes it a double, but he's aware Hal probably doesn't know it. Clinks it with Hal’s for a toast, and leans against the back of their ratty couch. He’s so happy, and so relaxed. “You can put more sugar in it if you want.”

 

 “This is fine,” Hal says a bit too quickly. Besides adding sugar would involve getting up to go to the kitchen and he’s determined not to leave this spot, worried that doing so might somehow break the spell, that he’d come back and Dave would be gone, taking his smile with him. He grips his glass a bit more tightly, resolving himself and takes another drink. It’s easier this time, and he keeps his eyes open, never looking away from Dave, a smile of his own growing on his face. “Ophh… gd…” He leans forward over his lap, trickle of whiskey at the corner of his mouth. What was the line from that movie? “I have a ‘drinking’ problem?"

 

Meanwhile, Dave drinks more quickly than Hal, but tries his best to pace himself, mindful of his company. The booze pulses at a slow beat on his nerves, but his head is still clear enough and he’s pretty sure there aren’t outward signs giving him away. Hal, on the other hand, is already looking kind of flushed.

 

“Okay, okay… getting… the hang of it. It might take me a few tries, but… yeah. Okay.” Hal coughs just once, shoulders shaking a bit before looking back at Dave. “So… what are we celebrating, exactly?”

 

For a second Dave’s eyes trace the path of that trickle of whiskey, and then back to Hal’s sheepish expression... Deciding it’s a look that suits him, he ruffles Hal’s hair, snorting a brief, warm laugh. “A drinking problem, huh… And you’re still willing to try again. See if you sort it out.” It was an expectedly scientific effort from Hal, indeed. “I’m not celebrating anything in particular. But… we have been a week in this place and we’re still alive. Let’s drink to that.”

 

Is his own glass empty? But that has an easy solution, too. He pours a little bit more, filling his halfway again, and then Hal’s - only an ounce and half for him. “That was our last lemon, so this one is neat. You can try to take this one as a shot, and see if it comes easier afterwards.”

 

Dave’s hand in his hair had been unexpected but not unwelcome, the kind of affectionate, but extremely rare display that Hal had come to look forward to. His cheeks had warmed from the joke of a compliment, or at least he thinks that’s the cause, and his resolve deepens.

 

“A shot?” He looks down at the small amber pool in his glass, swirling it around gently. “That means to do it all in one go right?” Hal had always assumed it was just the size of the glass, or… Jell-O was involved? Although he can’t really imagine Dave downing a tiny rainbow colored drink. The mental image has him laughing again.

 

He takes a quick breath, and then unceremoniously throws the whiskey into his mouth. It lingers there, a swig of the world’s worst mouthwash before he remembers he’s supposed to swallow the stuff, which he does with some trouble. His throat and tongue are on fire, and it takes a few deep breaths through his mouth before he feels he can speak again. “Y-yeah.. Ea-easy,” he sputters.

 

Dave watches intently, for evaluation purposes. If his hand slips from Hal’s hair to the back of his neck, he doesn’t think twice about it. They’re having fun; he has always been a physical person, and they had been sort of forced into close quarters from the start. He just– laughs, at the face Hal is making. He’s not coughing but that grimace…

 

“Heeeh. Not bad, not bad… But you’re not supposed to hold it in your mouth for so long, Hal.”

 

“Sorry, got… distracted.” Hal mutters, lightheadedness different than the times he’s felt it in the past. Somewhere in his head a few numbers flutter by. Something about body mass and blood alcohol levels, but he can’t be bothered to focus on them because Dave’s hand is behind his neck and it’s rough but still inviting somehow, comforting.

 

Dave’s laughter subsides, and only then he realizes he may have been more affected than he thought - when he stops and he’s leaning against Hal, feeling his body heavy and his head _faint_. He is just on his fourth glass tonight, not counting the small stolen sips during the day, but the first he had had, and the second Hal had interrupted, had been triples.

He still has some left though, and he sips calmly at it before asking with a quiet grin that - despite his genuine good intentions - looks a little bit smug. “Maybe you want to call it a night. You’re still pretty new at this.”

With David’s leaning against him, still smiling over the lip of his glass, Hal can’t help but feel that he’s being teased. “Hey, I’m a quick learner,” he retorts as he takes the glass from the man’s hand, and takes a long swallow. He keeps his eyes firmly locked on Dave’s, not sure why it’s suddenly become so important that he rise to what is very likely an imagined challenge.

 

… If Dave were to say he wasn’t impressed, that’d just be lying, and unfair, to boot.

 

“Well, what do we have here?” Dave mutters, and he’s just pleased - There’s no other adjective to describe it. He holds Hal’s eye contact, breaks it for a second to watch at the way his Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows, and then back again to his eyes.

 

Hal sighs, and then Dave’s gaze goes down once again. He looks at his lips, flushed red, and shiny from the whiskey. He touches them with a finger, taps lightly at his bottom lip just because he can. “Stole my drink there, that was pretty brave… are you alright, kid?”

 

He can’t help but keep on teasing, and may be slurring his words, just a little.

 

Dave’s finger is on his lip and Hal knows, he _knows_ the man is just fucking with him, trying to get a rise out of him for stealing the drink right out of his hand. He guesses he should be glad Dave didn’t end up taking a swing at him. Even with their muscles loose from the drink, it’d still probably hurt.

 

Still, he can’t stop himself from taking in a quick gasp of air, but forces himself to hold it, he can’t let on that he’s thinking… well… he doesn’t want to think about what he’s thinking, so he simply focuses on letting his breath out slowly over his barely parted lips, over Dave’s fingers which are _still there_ for some reason which seems absolutely unfair.

 

Hal returns Dave’s smile with one of his own. “M’m not a kid,” he manages. “It’s _Otacon_ , remember?”

 

“Alright, then.  A hacker, with a hacker name…”, Dave agrees, amused, but he still shudders a little bit. Feeling his eyelids getting heavier as Hal’s warm breath is caressing his finger. Yet he keeps on teasing - his smirk is not going to leave anytime soon. “A dangerous enemy of the state… and nobody would’ve guessed it.”

 

And Hal, he wonders how long Dave is going to let his finger rest against his lip, wonders if he should turn his head, pull away ever so slightly. He doesn’t though, unwilling to look away even for a moment. And… it feels good. To be teased- to have someone get close to you, even as a joke. It’s warm and it’s intimate and a lot of other things Hal had gotten used to doing without. But now that he’s had a taste…

 

Well it burns and it’s hard to swallow but he finds himself wanting just a little bit more.

 

Dave drags his finger across Hal’s lips and then slips down to hang onto his shirt collar as if to remark a point. Hal is smiling, and teasing back, and it’s just so good for him to see Hal like this. So far removed from the terror of their first meeting. Dave likes him confident, relaxed.

 

… But he’s is also drunker than he thought, suddenly aware his precious balance appears to be shot: He holds onto Hal’s clothes harder than he had intended, but he– David realizes he doesn’t mind it. Just as he never minded the closeness, or the physical contact that was there from the start. Gravity is weighing him down, in a way. But it’s ok, Hal is there. Looking happy, and blushing, all warm plump lips–

 

_Hal is looking so nice..._

 

Hal notices how Dave’s eyes seem to be on him again - and Dave's hand is resting on his shirt, and then that hand is _pulling_ on his shirt, and then Hal can’t help but be a little worried. “Dave?” He asks softly, raising his own hand to cover the one tugging at him. Dave doesn’t look like he’s in any pain, quite the opposite really, but Hal can’t help himself.

 

“Are you okay?” He tilts his head slightly, trying to get a better look. “Can I get…ah… get you something?”

 

_Getting friendly all of a sudden, isn’t he?_

 

Is Hal rejecting him? Is he playing along? It’s not like Dave doesn’t care - To the contrary, he does, and he needs to know… and right now, he can’t tell. It’s hard to say, when he is this lightheaded and Hal is looking at him like that, so softly and so unsure in such a way, Dave doesn’t know if he should retreat or continue to provide Hal with the reassurance he seems to be asking for. He wants this, though. Wants Hal. That he’s sure of.

 

… And then Hal goes and tilts his head, and has the gall to keep on teasing, and Dave stops himself from stopping. He leans forward, traps Hal’s mouth with his own in a brief, wet kiss that doesn’t go deep but ends up with him sucking on Hal’s bottom lip slow and insistent - only for a moment before letting go.

 

His are not shallow breaths, but they’re coming much faster now.

 

Hal’s hand had released its loose grip on Dave’s as its suddenly pushed up against him, pressing a searing heat just above his collar. His fingers had hovered in the air for a moment, brushing against the unexpected roughness of Dave’s stubbled chin, grazing the lobe of his ear before stopping, just… floating in the air.

 

Hal thinks he might be floating too.

 

David… David had kissed him. It had been short, but warm and the lingering pull at his lip set his heart pounding. He has to remind himself to breathe and dares himself not to look away, to take in every second of this moment. He doesn’t want to ever forget the way Dave looks… is looking…at him.

 

Hal can feel his heart's wild gallop through his chest, wonders if Dave can’t feel it too, wonders if it’s telling the same story as the man’s rapid breaths against his face. He opens his mouth to speak, but finds he’s tired of questions. He wants answers.

 

There was a moment hanging between the two of them, after Dave broke off the kiss. And then Hal takes all the tension in it and loosens it when he pulls him closer by his hair, and returns it. Slender fingers snake their way into David’s short locks as Hal bites at his lip, finding his nerve for just a moment before pulling him that ever so important inch nearer, closing the space with a kiss of his own.

 

While they’re like this, David doesn’t mind admitting to himself he had wanted this since the bridge. He hadn’t realized back then, amidst the panic in both, how much the feeling of Hal’s lips would brand onto his brain, and how it would keep on haunting him before going to sleep. Made worse by the close quarters, by the way Hal _cared so much_. Right now it feels as if Dave had been burying the urge for ages, and he doesn’t want to ever stop kissing him back, or for Hal to let go.

 

Suppressing a low sound, Dave's left hand slides to nest on the small of Hal’s back to press him closer, freeing his right one to bury itself in the hair right over the nape of his neck. He tangles it there and tugs a little, and even if he keeps the kiss slow, the way he teases his tongue for Hal to part his lips betrays a sense of messy urgency. He can feel, indeed Hal’s pulse through his chest, and Dave knows his own is beating wildly, too. Making his head spin in ways he doesn’t want to stop.

 

His tongue slips inside Hal’s mouth, deepening the kiss, searching. He tastes whiskey and warmth, and when he lets go, he drags his teeth across Hal’s bottom lip, hinting at hunger.

 

It shouldn’t have been surprising, how Dave reacted to Hal's kiss. It shouldn’t have been surprising, the way he returned it with care and also something that seemed to Hall like… need? And it still shouldn't surprise Hal, when a hand finds its way to his back, pulling him in, how his own body reacts because there’s something else there, something that resonates within him, the same something he saw in Dave’s smile. It’s more powerful than lust, or desire, or even need.

 

It’s want.

 

He feels the want in the warmth of Dave’s hand at his back, feels it in the gentle pull of his fingers in his hair. There’s want in the slow but desperate pull of Dave’s tongue across his lip. Somehow- and it’s this that truly catches Hal unprepared, Dave wants him. Hal knows what it’s like to be a conquest of necessity, how it feels to be a last resort.

 

This moment feels nothing like that. This moment… makes him feel like he could even forget- he just has to let it burn at his brain, let Dave in and simply show him how much he wants. Him.

 

He feels Dave’s tongue against his own and it’s hot and unpracticed and over too soon but the trail of his teeth against his lip sets his nerves on edge and he finds himself unsure of whether he should move, or say something, or simply press another kiss to the other man’s lips. He wants them all. He wants…Dave.

 

Straining against the hands that hold him firmly into place, he tilts his head slightly, exposing his throat as his moved to David’s ear.

 

“Dave…” he whispers, unsure of what’s to follow.

 

Hal nips at Dave’s ear, and he feels more than hears the whisper, his breath humid against his skin and hot like the rush he’s evoking in David. The way Hal is sounding right now, calling his name like that… It wakes up something in him, and his own inhibitions right now are lowered enough to allow himself to just–

 

Dave holds Hal closer still, feeling the shape of his back with an open hand, incapable of taking his eyes off the curve of his bare throat until he covers it with his mouth. He kisses there, slow and wet, softly dragging his teeth across the pale arch of the tendon. Sucking and teasing at the delicate skin there for what seems both an age and an instant to him.

 

Hal doesn't get a response to him softly calling David's name, well- at least not a verbal one. What he gets instead is David pulling him in those last few inches until the two of them are pressed together in a way that makes him weak. And when he feels David descending on the exposed skin of his throat in the way he’d been wanting- been hoping for he can’t help but let the faintest of moans escape.

 

He bites his own lip quickly; somewhat ashamed at the sound, knowing Dave has heard it- that it’s unmistakable and now he’s exposed in more ways than one. Hal winces, not from pain, but rather an effort to focus on everything Dave is doing to him now, every touch, every kiss, every last inch of the trail he’s tracing down his neck.

 

And Dave, he lets go in the end. But it’s to just look at Hal and read whatever expression he might find on his face. He wants him, and needs to let Hal know.

 

But he also needs to know what Hal wants.

 

Dave's own veins may be soaked on enough whiskey to be affecting his judgement, right now - enough to let him show his hand, reveal something he wasn’t going to. And what Hal wants still is going to come first. Breathing fast, he bites his own lip, and tentatively caresses Hal’s cheek with the back of his hand.

 

As Dave pulled away, Hal had sucked in a quick breath, a gasp of pain from a pricked finger, and for a moment he had worried that it’s all over. But when his eyes rise to stare back into that blue- the same blue he saw after the bridge and in his dreams before; he can see so much. He sees power, of course and that _want_ that quickens his pulse, but something else besides and he realizes Dave is… waiting for him.

 

He takes it all in. The quickness of breath. The tentative bite of a lip. The question he’s being asked as though his answer actually matters. He leans into the hand at his cheek, eyes closed, and turns his head to press his lips to the back of David’s fingers. He doesn’t know the word for what he’s feeling. His chest is pounding, heart feeling as though it might burst but it’s a funny kind of heartbreak, one caused by dams breaking rather than walls caving in.

 

“David, I….” he finds himself at a loss, never comfortable with speaking on his best days. Slowly he pulls the hand still resting at his face and places it over his loudly beating heart, hoping it will answer when words cannot.

 

For his own part, Dave isn't going to be able to forget the salty taste of Hal’s skin or the sound of his tiny, stiffed moan anytime soon. It had made his own blood sing, and he knows now he needs to hear it again and again, hopefully unrestrained. Even if it doesn’t happen right now. Because– that is the reason he’s asking. Waiting for Hal’s answer, staring into grey eyes that show him want, of the same kind he is feeling, and also a turbulence he doesn’t know how to interpret. Vulnerability? And it’s because of what he sees in there he’s not surprised, either, when Hal kisses his fingers instead of talking, so tenderly, and shows him the rapid beat in his chest. He strokes his thumb against it. It’s not a rejection. Is he… _he’s scared, isn’t he?_

 

David isn’t so drunk he can’t get it. And he isn’t good with words, either. Wouldn’t know how to call what he has been feeling, were Hal to ask him, even if he were sober - because until now he has being doing his best to not acknowledge it. He’s not even supposed to still be able to feel. The only thing he knows for sure is how what he needs involves Hal as a whole. How there is lust in it: the desire to hold and devour and _possess_ , but also so much– More. He had felt the urge to protect Hal since they had met, but he is aware he doesn’t know how to hold onto anything without breaking it.

 

Maybe he’s not going to die if he opens up, too.

 

This is too important. Dave wills himself to clear his head, make the spinning stop, closing his eyes.

 

But when David’s eyes close for a moment Hal feels cut off. There’s a pull in his chest and he feels his jaw tense as he prepares for the inevitable truth. ' _I’m sorry. This was a mistake. I’ve had one too many._ ' He holds his breath to keep from shaking and prepares his most understanding smile. It’s not so bad, really. The drink will give them an excuse to laugh it off in the morning, and soon enough it will be just another memory. They might even manage to recover from this- someday. And at least now… he doesn’t have to imagine any more.

 

But then Dave takes Hal’s hand in the most delicate grip he can manage, and puts it against his chest. Sliding his hand down, he lets Hal feel the beat of his own rapidly beating heart, showing him in return to allow Hal to know he is not alone. And, Hal thinks he understands. The two of them are nothing alike…and yet somehow exactly the same.

 

Dave presses his forehead against Hal’s. They’ve been silent for so long and his own voice feels as if from far away when he speaks at last, “Let me kiss you again. Please.”

 

Dave’s words, quiet and ragged but more serious than he’s ever heard him, help Hal realize he isn't the only one who is exposed.

 

 

 _'Please'_ is a word he’s used to saying, but rarely hearing. And the way it sounds coming from Dave…

 

Hal's own words die on his tongue unspoken. What could he possibly say? He’s not used to being held like something precious, spoken to as though he counted, treated as though he mattered. His lips part as he searches for a response, but finds he can only nod before leaning forward and kissing Dave himself just long enough and hard enough to express his own desires.

 

“….again,” he echoes. “Please.”

 

Dave can’t think of a better way to receive the answer he had been looking for.

 

Hal kisses him as if he had been starving, too, just desperate enough to steal Dave’s breath away and leave him wanting. Dave pulls him closer, hands fisting in his clothing, and he had barely started to kiss back, to ease himself into the rhythm of both together, when Hal’s lips broke away from his.

 

 _Please_ , Hal had said, voice tight and tremulous - and that had been the instant when David had discovered there’s not a single thing on the planet he wouldn’t do for Hal Emmerich.

 

And Dave's head is spinning again, and his body feels so much heavier than it normally would with no whiskey in between, but right now he is even _grateful_ for it. Because whatever happened, meant Hal is there now, and he gets to lose himself in the searing wet heat of his mouth, it lets him slide his tongue inside to devour him slowly, losing all hesitation until the kiss becomes demanding. Urgent. It leaves Dave quieting a growl in the back of his throat, and pressing Hal against the cushions of the sofa, chest to chest. Panting, he presses a kiss on the side of Hal’s neck and spreads an open hand on his thigh so it’s not hanging off the couch. Leaves it there, too, to have something to grab and hold onto when he takes Hal’s mouth in his once again, both possessive and pleading. He can’t remember when was the last time he had truly wanted someone like this, as more than lust. He isn’t sure there had been one.

 

If there had been a sliver of doubt left in Hal’s mind about Dave’s intentions it vanishes as he feels himself swiftly falling against the cushions of the threadbare sofa, pinned by the weight of the other man. It’s intimidating at first, almost as though he’s been trapped, but the tension eases as he realizes he’s being held not by Dave’s grip, but his touch.

 

The scent of whiskey still lingers in the air and on Dave’s lips, but Hal knows neither of them will be able to blame this, any of this on the drink tomorrow. There’s too much thought, too much consideration, too much… care for this to be a mere drunken fumble. If Hal is worried that his own efforts are clumsy and inexpert his fears are quieted by the way Dave melts in to him with such a sense of satisfaction that he can’t help but feel whatever he’s doing, whatever he can do is exactly what Dave wants.

 

Hal whines as Dave pulls his lips away from his own, but is soon silenced as the kiss on his neck, hand on his thigh speak with the same care of desire for something more. He bucks his hips slightly as Dave comes to kiss him again, stirring something dormant within him. It isn’t enough and he finds himself pushing up again, as though trying to be with Dave, a part of him. The image draws a hiss from him as he snakes a hand beneath the man’s shirt and around to his back, pulling him closer still.

 

He wants to be with Dave- completely. Wants that feeling of protection and possession and… and value… all around him and inside him even if it’s only for a single moment- he’ll be able to remember it forever. And that… that would be enough. So he says the thing he’s been thinking all night. The four simple words that have been playing across his mind since he first saw that smile.

 

“Dave...” he breathes, “…I want you.”

 

“Hal…”, and that’s his hand sneaking under Hal’s shirt as he growls, fingers splayed open, going up over his ribs. So rough in comparison to the delicate skin he’s touching. He kisses him again, and can’t help but bite, the heat on them both getting out of hand. His hips press down once, twice, letting Hal feel him, see what he’s done to him as the grip on his thigh tightens. “Hal, I want you too.”

 

He is not going to blame this on the drink. And he hopes to all the powers he doesn’t believe in, that Hal won’t either.

 

“Let me– Nnh. Not here.” His voice is catching on the pull of Hal’s body under him, the friction barely allowing him to talk, dizzying him with arousal. He needs to stop for a second– Dave can’t even remember exactly when he started wanting this so badly, but if he’s going to have it, have _him_ , it’s not going to be in a frayed couch. And he wants to take off Hal’s shirt so badly, wants to see him and taste him… He takes the moment of pause to hook his hands under the hem, and tugs, silently pleading to be allowed.

 

His voice is breathy, low, “Let me take you to bed.”

 

Dave’s hands are on him, bringing him closer and not close enough and if Hal closes eyes he can just barely imagine it’s enough. But then he hears his name on Dave’s lips and it’s the only sound he ever wants to hear again. And when Dave presses down on him it’s the only thing he ever wants to feel and he has to fight to keep quiet, teeth bearing down into his lip as he presses himself upward to meet him. His thoughts flicker slightly, hints of memories at the corner of his minds, but he wills them to be silent, thinking maybe it was all worth it, if it led him here.

 

There’s a slight shift on the sofa and in Dave’s voice and Hal’s eyes open, vision slightly blurred, breaths coming in shallow. He pulls himself to his elbows and nods quickly at Dave’s request, his pleading face swimming into focus and drawing him up, like a moth following the light.

 

Their path is unsteady, steps made more difficult by the need to remain in contact, arms still encircling one another. Despite the chaos Hal still registers that he’s in Dave’s room, his space, he’s been let in and the breaking feeling returns.

 

He takes a seat on Dave’s bed, his ankle brushing something made of glass but he pays it no mind. His entire focus is standing just a few feet away, looking at him like he was something sacred. Under the powerful gaze of such raw admiration he can’t help but feel nervous, lacking.

 

“I… I don’t know how …ah…” He glanced away. He understood the basics, of course. In theory. But this situation is far beyond his experience. And his experience is the last thing he wanted to be reminded of. Not now. Not here. Not with Dave.

 

He turned back, eyes hopeful. “You’ll… show me?”

 

David stays by the door frame, a second or two, just allowing himself to look. It’s dark, but the moonlight entering through his curtainless window feels like it’s enough, and he allows himself to devour Hal with his eyes, the way he hadn’t dared before, wanting to commit to memory the lithe figure sitting right over his sheets. He wants to make a mess of him, hear Hal letting out the moans he had denied to them both back in the sofa, to help him forget his doubts…

 

“I will”, he says, and it’s a lot like a promise, for both. It’s not like he has a lot of happy experiences to draw from. His body, too, has been used in service to his country. But he knows what to do, knows he can make Hal feel good. 

 

He crosses the space between them with shaky steps, the memory of the sofa and the interrupted friction between them too recent, making him ache to touch Hal again.  But instead of pressing him against the bed, Dave kneels on the floor between Hal’s legs, pulls him for another brief, scorching kiss. He’s so hard it hurts and the position he has put himself into is giving him the worst kind of ideas, but he still entangles his fingers with Hal’s to kiss at them in a gesture that at least attempts innocence, muttering, “… Look at me.”

 

Right where he is, everything means heat, and he’s so close he can smell Hal’s arousal. It’s made him shiver with want, makes him breathe hard through his nose and lick his lips. But David also sensed his reluctance, thinks he understands its cause. And if Hal is a virgin… he needs to behave.

 

Hal isn’t sure what kind of answer he’s expecting. To be pushed silently down onto the bed, maybe. Perhaps a wink and a smile. _Oh I’ll show you, all right._ He prepares a line of his own. Something about buying him a drink first- just in case levity is the only way to get through this moment and on to the next. What he doesn’t expect is for Dave to be so serious, every move deliberate, each word considered and he slowly starts to realize how much Dave cares about this, about him.

 

He anticipates the kiss, assumes it will be immediately followed by more just like it. That Dave has knelt in front of him to deliver it somehow both confuses and excites him and his mind immediately leaps forward with images of his mouth on him, around him and he has to force himself back into reality when he hears Dave’s voice again.

 

He meets Hal’s eyes, “I will show you. But nothing has to happen, if you don’t want to.”

 

And god, it’s such a hard promise to make. But he needs to, he means it. And needs to ask now.

 

 

Hal’s slender fingers are at Dave’s lips and he recognizes the need and arousal but also the tenderness in his voice. He seems positively starved for him and yet he’s willing to… wait? It’s a series of firsts for Hal, but maybe not in the way the Dave is thinking.

 

All Hal can think is that he wants to be good for him, whatever that means. The rest of it he can worry about later after these memories overwrite the others, when thoughts of closeness and kisses bring only David to mind and no one else. He wants nothing more than to burn everything else out of his mind, to fill himself with nothing but Dave, Dave, Dave.

 

And he’s eager to start. Now.

 

“Yeah,” he answers quietly. “Yes.”

 

“Dave… I… I want to be with you.”

 

There are times for teasing, and this isn’t one of them. The silence falling between them as Dave waits for the answer feels like the rush of his own pulse through his body, and he’s suddenly all too aware of the hardwood floor under his knees.

 

He may have been affected by all the whiskey, when they had started - it had helped him to look the other way when it came to the very real reasons he had had to think wanting Hal could end up being bad for both of them.

 

Now he is here, still affected but forcing himself into awareness for the sake of both. And he doesn’t think he can go back to… not touching Hal, not kissing him. Make it as if he didn’t know how Hal’s lips felt against his. But even then, he needs the permission. This is foreign territory for him too, they’ll still have to stay together in the morning… and he cares too much, to not want it to be good. He doesn’t want Hal to be scared, ever again, and especially not of him.

 

God, he wants it to be good. So good, that Hal wants it again and again…

 

It’s a relief when Hal says yes. David doesn’t rise, stays on his knees, almost submissive if it weren’t for the way he reaches up to tangle his fingers into Hal’s hair for a deep, demanding kiss that has his tongue fucking into his mouth like a promise of everything he wants to do to him. He whispers, low: “Anything you need… Tell me.” And then he's undoing the button in Hal’s pants, slipping his hand inside to cup at the hardness there. The feeling of it draws a hoarse, needy sound out of him and he makes quick work of tugging at Hal’s pants down to free him.

 

Hal’s eyes open wide in surprise as Dave’s hands pull him down into a deep and sudden kiss unlike any he’s ever received, unlike the ones he’d even had moments ago. The difference is subtle, but oh so significant, the shift from a plea to a promise. It’s when Snake’s movements are joined by his words that Hal almost loses himself then and there- the hand shifting against him almost like an afterthought.

 

He could very well just start doing the domineering thing again, it’s not like he doesn’t like it too, or doesn’t know how. But his focus right is on making Hal feel good. He knows how to serve as well - it’s actually easier right now, because he doesn’t have to think so much, and because he knows he can get Hal to lose himself, forget anything that’s not his mouth.

 

The air is cool against his skin, making each one of Dave’s searing fingers stand out as they work to undress him. Hal’s hands hover for a moment, just over Dave’s shoulders, palms barely dusting at the skin there before he stops himself, jams them down at his sides where he twists the sheets into gnarled shapes.

 

“Let me take care of you”, David whispers, and his hot breath is almost a caress between Hal’s legs, too, before he just takes him inside, hot and wet and hungry.

 

He’s lived a life of uncertainty so it’s alarming how sure he feels now about this, all of this. Hal sacrifices a moment of looking at Dave to pull the loose shirt over his head because he doesn’t think he can stand to have anything at all between them.

 

_Let me take care of you._

 

The warm air of quiet words, soft scratch of a stubbled cheek against his thigh and the look- the look Dave is giving him could send him over the edge if he let them. Instead he tries to slow himself, makes fists tight enough to dig the nails into his palm. He doesn’t trust himself to speak, feeling himself incapable of anything more than incoherent cries, so he simply nods and leans down to kiss Dave again.

 

_Let me take care of you._

 

As though the man had done anything else since the moment they met.

 

_Let me take care of you._

 

Hal has been alone for so long, even before he ran away- and all at once he’s found a partner, an ally, a friend and now…

 

_Let me take care of you._

 

And then Dave’s mouth is upon him and he has to remind himself to breathe because it feels good, so good…

 

 

…so why can’t he move?

 

He swallows as far as he can, the width of Hal’s girth stretching his mouth, and making him  moan, because just tasting him like this is already too good, getting to know how the flavor of Hal’s hardness and precum fill his tongue. Dave doesn’t take his eyes off him as he sucks, attentive. He starts slow, working his tongue against him. Held into place by Hal’s thighs and hoping to hear him again…

 

But Hal is way too guarded, too tense and contained.

 

Something is wrong here, isn’t it?                                                      

 

He continues, and tries his best, but there’s no amount of alcohol that could erase his own awareness hard or long enough to not notice how Hal is completely immobile.

 

Dave lets go with a long, soft suck, and looks upwards. “Hal?”

 

“Is there…?”  And the feeling of vulnerability is back, because he is scared, but Dave overlooks it, at least for a moment. He kisses at Hal’s thigh, inquisitive. Worried.

 

The warmth of Dave’s mouth is unbearable and the slow, careful ministrations of his tongue are so tender Hal is almost able to enjoy it for a brief moment before panic sets in.

 

Tears start to form in his eyes as a painful stinging there blurs his vision and he suddenly feels so empty, as though every ounce of warmth that had filled him so recently has been drained away. He wants this, he wants Dave- more than anything, so much it hurts.

 

But he still can’t move.

 

“Dave?” His voice is quiet, worried, because he doesn’t want him to stop, doesn’t want him to step away but he also doesn’t know what’s happening, just that there’s something wrong. With him.

 

“ _…Dave?_ ” He can barely say his name and he’s scared, scared that he’s fucked it all up again. Scared the Dave will be disappointed. Scared that he’s ruined things between them. Scared that he’ll stop. Scared that he won’t.

 

He should have known. He should have realized that he was too broken, too damn useless to do even this. The way that he is, he can’t even allow himself a sliver of happiness, to say nothing of being any good for Dave. He tastes the tears that have left trails along his face and curses himself because now Dave will know- know, but not understand. In his mind’s eye he can see it all so clearly. The serious stare hiding disappointment. The stilted utterance of stern words, maybe even an apology if the man was feeling generous. Half a dozen scenarios that all end with Dave turning and closing the door.

 

He still can’t move, but he’s shaking, suddenly cold. He manages to speak once more, words he’s uttered in the past for fear of dying- but now he’s terrified of living the same way he always has.

 

“…Dave?”

 

“…please, don’t leave me. _Don’t go…_ ”

 

He stops. Immediately.

 

“Hal…” he starts, but he realizes, he doesn’t know what to say. This is unexpected… and he doesn’t quite know what happened, or how to deal with it, either. The floor feels extremely cold all of a sudden, so he stands up. Takes a single glance at the way Hal is shivering, pale and terrified, and unable to look at him.

 

As Dave begins to stand, Hal braces for the worst. He knows that at any moment he’ll have to go, be sent out of the room, and he’s trying to mentally prepare himself for the rejection and praying he can get his legs to obey long enough to carry him to the other side of the door.

 

This may have been a terrible idea, but probably not for the reasons Hal is thinking right now. Still, David chooses to go sit by his side, genuinely worried. He… wants to hold him, but-

 

  _Did you expect Hal to not fear you? You were created for killing. He told you that much, before you murdered him and left the corpse to be bombarded by NATO._

 

   _Shut up. Not everything is about that._

 

“I’m not going anywhere”, he sighs. “And… I won’t ask, if you don’t want to tell me, either.”                      

 

Hal feels, rather than sees Dave take a seat next to him, warmth at his side that he’d like to think of as “familiar”. It’s the same as it was back on the sofa, on the ground after the bridge, similar even to those frantic hours in the car.

 

“…I…” the words catch in his throat. He doesn’t know what to tell Dave. If he should say anything at all. “I don’t think I can...” he says quietly. “…Not now anyway…” Dave has promised not to leave him and he doesn’t want to do or say anything that might jeopardize that.

 

Tentatively, Dave puts his arm around Hal’s shoulders. Whatever happened was enough to kill all previous arousal, and now everything he feels is exhaustion, and his own guts twisting like snakes inside him. It’s so easy to feel as if he were back in South Africa these days, but he battles it, pushes it down. He holds onto the very real concern he is feeling for Hal, the only constructive emotion of everything inside him right now, “I’m sorry.”

 

Hal relaxes.

 

It’s gradual, control slowly returning to him and as Dave puts his arm around him, he’s able to lean into it, accept the touch for what it is, reassurance and acceptance. His eyes close and he focuses on the simple act of breathing and has almost returned to a normal pace when he hears Dave speak.

 

But when Dave apologizes and Hal feels so low. He’d agreed to this, after all. It was his fault, his damn fault that everything had gone to hell. And now Dave is saying sorry to him?

 

Dave tries to think of what else to say, and fails. Handing Hal his shirt, “We can talk tomorrow. Still wanna stay?”

 

He accepts the shirt, pulling it to his chest quietly.  “Thanks.”

 

He reaches up with his free hand to grasp at the fingers hanging over his shoulder. Hal holds Dave’s hand tightly for a moment before speaking again. “It’s… it’s not anything you did. It’s just… me.”

 

He turns slightly to look back at Dave, and can only just make out the look of raw concern in the darkened room. “I…is… is it okay?”

 

“Stay”, Dave says, giving Hal’s fingers a slight squeeze, because that is the only thing he’s sure of. It pains him that Hal feels the need to reassure him, as if he were going to insist when it’s pretty clear he had almost triggered a panic attack in him. And he isn’t sure he can believe that what happened is not his fault, either. But having this talk right here and right now is the stupidest thing he could do.

 

Hal nearly cries again when Dave tells him to stay and thinks if the man never says another word to him again, it would be okay; he could do just fine replaying that one word over and over. He settles for pressing his face into Dave’s hand and taking a breath to calm himself before bending over to get dressed.

 

At least Hal doesn’t want to go… and doesn’t want him to go, either. That’s something - but Dave doesn’t know what.

 

_You shouldn’t have made this personal._

_Don’t have the energy to disagree, no._

 

“You think you can sleep?”, Dave asks, quietly. Since it seems they’re going to share the room. He reaches down, retrieves Hal’s pants from the floor and gives them to him too, without looking. “I won’t move. Not unless you want me to.”

 

“I… maybe. Even… even if I can’t, I’d still…rather…” he lets the word echo in his head again, “…stay.” He’s tired, exhausted really but the last thing he wants is to be alone.

 

Dave wants to touch him, not to initiate sexual contact of any kind, but to check on his pulse, see if the wave of coldness chilling both of them is receding in Hal at least. He thinks, distantly, that Hal’s glasses had to have fallen on the couch, somewhere. He thinks, not so distantly, that he’s too sober to deal with this.

 

He does nothing of the sort - If he moves, it’s only to pull back the blankets and offer Hal a spot inside them. It’s only good luck he didn’t even get undressed. Easier to stave off the cold like that, if he’s going to sleep on top of the covers.

 

 

The soft rustle behind him indicates that Dave’s shifted on bed, moved the blankets to make room for him. He takes a step back towards the bed, leans a knee onto the mattress slowly, just to Dave’s side and places on hand on his shoulder for support. He’s been so… well ‘kind’ isn’t even the word for it, but he’s not sure what the right word is, he’s so unaccustomed to the feeling.

 

He slips under the covers, bushing against Dave’s arm as he does so and lies down, back against the wall. And still, Dave hasn’t moved a muscle. He’s done so much for him, taken every care and consideration to try and understand just what it is Hal wants- the least he can do is tell him.

 

“Dave?” He asks quietly. “Will you… uh…” He feels his face grown warm in embarrassment which is stupid really, considering everything between them, everything that’s just happened. “…will you hold me?”

It’s not surprising to David that Hal is too exhausted to think of leaving. He already knows how long it takes Hal to recover from the kind of fright he just put him through, no different at all in his mind of what had happened at the bridge.

 

What does surprise him is that Hal still wants him close after that, and not because of how narrow the bed is. Willingly close.

 

“… Yeah. Yeah, I will.”

 

It’s… puzzling, really. He had been preparing himself to just lie atop the covers and now– It’s not like he doesn’t want Hal near him, he does. He just can’t understand him.

 

Maybe it can even be reassurance, in a way, that despite the damage he did, he didn’t completely force himself onto him.

 

Silently, he slides between the blankets and lies on his back, so Hal can choose to settle against him in the way he sees fit. And Hal, he slowly, tentatively scoots closer. Rests his head against David’s right shoulder. David ends up sliding his arm beneath him after some consideration, not minding Hal’s scarce weight. Holds him close. And strangely enough _that_ is what gets Hal to relax.

 

It’s not long until he falls asleep, and David just wishes he could say the same. He stays awake, flat on his back and watching the grayness of their cheap popcorn ceiling, the shadows occasionally moving depending on how the clouds outside chose to interfere with the moonlight. This closeness, it doesn’t feel comforting. Not for him. Not after what happened.

 

He feels like an eternity passes with nothing but Hal’s body heat to distract him from his own thoughts.

 

_You don’t know how to hold onto anything without breaking it. You weren’t made for that._

 

David had been drinking the whole damn day, and he still feels too sober for this.

 

Careful to not wake Hal up, he reaches down and his hand finds a mostly-empty bottle of Jack. He opens it one-handed with ease.

 

The bottle cap, designed for controlled pour, ensures he doesn’t choke when he drinks straight from it until there’s nothing left at all.

 

He lets it slide to the floor, and himself into unconsciousness.


End file.
